Feb. 16: I love…
A long time ago, when all the grandfathers and grandmothers of today were little boys and little girls or very small babies, or perhaps not even born, Pa and Ma and Mary and Laura and Baby Carrie left their little house in the Big Woods of Wisconsin. They drove away and left it lonely and empty in the clearing among the big trees, and they never saw that little house again.
(opening paragraph, Little House on the Prairie)
… re-reading the books of my childhood. It’s like comfort food to my mind.
And now I can share these same books with my own children. I read the first chapter of Little House on the Prairie to Ainsley during her bath last night. To know that these books will be a part of her childhood, as they were a part of mine and my mom’s, is warmth, a cozy blanket on a snowy day, wrapped around my heart.
What connections will we forge through characters we love (and loathe) together? What lessons will we learn as we grow? What stories will bind us to one another and to the world around us? Where will we go?
The more that you read, the more things you will know.
The more that you learn, the more places you’ll go.